Hello, world! This blog began on September 28, 2007, and so far nobody has come looking for me with tar and feathers.
On my honor, I will do my best not to bore you. All comments are welcome as long as your discourse is civil and your language is not blue.

Happy reading, and come back often!

And whether my cup is half full or half empty, fill my cup, Lord.

Copyright 2007 - 2017 by Robert H.Brague

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Update

Since the photo over there to the right is nearly seven years old, I thought you might like to see what we look like today.

Mrs. RWP is as beautiful as ever. I may be a bit longer in the tooth, but I am still hanging in there. Either my head is shrinking or my ears are growing.

Robert Browning probably summed it up best: "Grow old along with me! / The best is yet to be, / The last of life, for which the first was made."

We are not throwing in the towel just yet. We hope to be around for a while longer yet.

Stay tuned.

(Editor's note. I definitely am slipping slowing down, though. I let April 18th go by without once mentioning Paul Revere's 1775 ride or even Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and I let April 19th go by without mentioning the Battles of Lexington and Concord in our little spat with George III or even Ralph Waldo Emerson's 1837 poem "Concord Hymn" -- you know, the one that begins "By the rude bridge that arched the flood, / Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, / Here once the embattled farmers stood / And fired the shot heard 'round the world". I shall try to do better by you in the future. --RWP)

17 comments:

I notice that Mrs Brague was holding a handbag (American: purse) containing the little personal things she required. May I assume that your own handbag was hidden behind Mrs Brague's back? I think I can guess what it might contain... a comb, scissors for emergency beard trimming, soft wipes for your spectacles and the complete Oxford Dictionary of English in twenty volumes.

Ian, I was unfamiliar with the phrase so used Google to learn that it is British idiom for "strong and healthy" -- so thank you very much! Of course, outward appearance does not reveal my macular degeneration or the wife's two artificial knees.

Snow! It is good to hear from you. I was joking (sort of) about my ears, although I would have preferred smaller ears that lay flatter against my head instead of prominent ones that make me look like a car going down the street with doors open on both sides. Oh well, I guess you can't have everything.

Michelle, if I believe our friend Snowbrush above that we haven't changed much, then coupled with your observation we both must have looked brilliant for the past seven years! But all of our cells have been replaced since then, haven't they? Still, I thank you for your very kind thoughts.

“I was joking (sort of) about my ears, although I would have preferred smaller ears…”

I felt that way about my ears when I was a kid. I was also embarrassed that I was skinny all over but especially my legs. Peggy says she was embarrassed by her nose and her crooked teeth, but I don’t even see that her nose is unusual, and as for her teeth, I find them endearing. Now, I’m embarrassed by my age spots, and other raised brownish “growths” that ugly up my face and body. My Granny had them, so I know where I got mine. I guess when you consider your ears, you might remind yourself that Clark Gable was considered sexy.

"But all of our cells have been replaced since then, haven't they?"

Well there you go, it's all those new cells that keep you looking young whereas my cells are so old that they walk with canes and wear hearing aides.

Wow. I hardly know what to say after reading all the previous comments! You both look fabulous. I'm sure we all have something about ourselves that we don't particularly like....perhaps it keeps us humble? You both radiate the life and joy that knowing Jesus as Savior causes! It appears we will not meet in this lifetime, my friend, since I have no desire to travel across this mighty continent, but can we sit at a table in Heaven and talk face to face over coffee? I'm pretty sure we're kindred spirits :-)

Pam/H.H., thanks for calling us fabulous! Doesn't that word means unreal, based on fable? Assuming that we do not meet in this lifetime, and also assuming that citizens of Heaven sit at tables and drink coffee (although that is by no means certain), it's a date! Provided that Mrs. RWP is invited as well, of course.

"Pam/H.H., thanks for calling us fabulous! Doesn't that word means unreal, based on fable?"

Some people simply can't take a compliment! Your esteemed reader simply meant to say (in the words of Fernando Lamas), "You look marvelous, darling!" and I would agree. Just think of how (much worse) you look if you had died six months ago.

Followers

My Other Blog Is A Rolls-Royce

About me

has lived on earth for 77 years and has been married for nearly 55 of those years to Ellie, his wife. They have two sons, one daughter, the appropriate assortment of in-laws, and six absolutely magnificent grandchildren. He enjoys reading, playing the piano, driving in the country, sitting by the ocean, watching birds fly, gazing into a roaring fire, holding his wife's hand, and spending time with his grandchildren. He doesn't fancy doing yard work, walking a dog who definitely is not in the mood, or cleaning up after one who is (RIP Jethro, 2004-2013).

Me, circa 2010 (with Mrs. RWP)

A reader in Oregon has requested a current photograph. For the thick of skull, I want to say that I am not exceedingly tall nor is Mrs. RWP exceedingly short. She is sitting in a chair; I am standing behind her and slightly to her right, your left. I am nothing if not thorough. Handsome and thorough. Exceedingly intelligent, very handsome, and thorough. I forgot humble.

Me, circa 1943

A few months before this photograph was taken, I fell through a hole in a chain link fence in New York City and landed on my head on a school’s cement playground that was six feet below sidewalk level. I had a brain concussion. Some people think this helps explain why I am the way I am today. Other people insist nothing can explain why I am the way I am today.

Poem by a Yorkshire Lad

Song for Lost Youth

Perhaps I should have cradled it
Like a dove
Kept it safe with tender love
But I squandered it -
Gushing-blundering-raging
Like a wild mountain stream
Desperate for an ocean
That was but a distant dream.
...I just never thought
That I could have loitered in the shallows
Reflecting the blueness of the sky
- Concealing silver fishes
- Quietly biding my time
- Stretching it out.
And so, and so it's gone now
- My ephemeral youth
- That precious once only gift
- That honeyed sweetness,
Leaving only the trembling resonance
Of distant echoes
From half-remembered hills.